


he spun the stars on his fingernails

by advantagetexas



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, almost pure fluff at the end, miscommunication as a plot device
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 21:00:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6723286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/advantagetexas/pseuds/advantagetexas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of Nursey's poems gets published in an actual magazine, so Dex decides to take a look at it. And then subsequently decides that it's imperative that he knows who it was written about. Imperative enough to run all the way across campus in the middle of December just to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	he spun the stars on his fingernails

It started out as something simple. A post on the Samwell Men’s Hockey Team subreddit by everyone’s favorite over-excitable goalie congratulating Nursey on getting one of his poems published in some ultra exclusive magazine. Dex had clicked on the link out of idle curiosity. Hey, if it was good enough to get published then it couldn’t be the complete drivel that he expected out of his fellow D-man’s sappy writing skills, could it?

_There are 88 recognized constellations in the sky_

Okay, starting off with a fact, always a good way to start a poem.

_Andromeda, nestled on the side of your ribs, seen only in furtive glances between matches_

Huh, okay, that was a weird way of putting things. Not exactly off-putting, but something about it just seemed off. Maybe it was the reference to matches?

_Cygnus, taking flight across your left shoulder, it’s neck curling up onto yours, like I’ve dreamed of doing so many times_

Wow, Nurse. Getting really sappy here. If it were any sappier, Dex thought, he’d be able to make maple syrup for next week’s pancakes. He mentally cataloged that chirp for later. Ransom would certainly appreciate its subtlety and subject matter. Canadians, man, they were so proud of their goddamn syrup. As Dex kept reading, though, something in his brain started to click into place.

_Pyxis, the compass behind your ear, keeping you safe at sea during the long summers of drought in our communication, during which I am hopelessly lost without you_

So Nursey was writing about someone or something with boats. Okay, that was cool. Maybe he’d met some chick from the rowing team or something. Even just that thought gave Dex a pang of fear in his gut that he couldn’t quite explain.

_Vulpecula across your chest, reminding me of the orange hue that I’ve so often come to regard as home_

_Corona Borealis across your nose, crinkling every time you smile in a way that sends my heart into hysterics at the very sight_

So that was…intense to say the least. Something about the words cut Dex to his very core, but the next lines were what got him, what made him get up from his computer and race across campus to the Haus, not bothering to even lock his dorm room door. They served as a constant loop in his head until he arrived, opening the front door just as Nurse was leaving.

_Vela and Virgo across your chest, reminding me that you were the first person I ever truly loved_

_Your freckles tell marvels that I cannot even begin to comprehend, with more complexity than the night sky itself_

_You burn in my chest like a supernova from which I have no escape, and I am fully content to go up in flames if it means I can have you for just a few seconds longer_

Dex was out of breath, his face red with exertion, his hair disheveled by the wind, and his clothes rumpled and out of place. Nursey looked confused, scared even, when he saw him.

“Bro, what’s going on, what happened?” He asks, and for once, Dex was glad that he hadn’t told him to “chill”.

“I…is it…” Dex huffs, out of breath and tired. He might be an athlete but damn if the Samwell campus wasn’t just the slightest bit of a challenge for him.

“Dex, just chill out, man,” Nurse says, and if Dex wasn’t nearly dying from lack of oxygen currently he would have slapped him. He takes a few seconds to regain his breath, leaning against the haus’s door frame.

“Derek,” he starts, seeing Nursey’s eyes widen at the sound of his first name. “Is the poem about me?”

“What? Will, what are you talking about?” Nursey’s eyes flick to the side, and then back, the telltale sign that he’s not being fully honest.

“The poem that you had published. I just…I need to know who it was about.”

“It…”Nursey pauses for a second, before looking to the ground and crossing his arms. “It was about a girl I met over the summer. My family vacationed in Portsmouth, and I met a girl on the beach. She was a fisherman’s daughter, I think.”

The more Nurse talks, the more Dex can feel his heart break. So he was wrong. He was dead wrong when he had so desperately hoped he would be right. He wasn’t even sure he was willing to accept what that’d meant, but he was going to try, because even if there was a small chance that it was…

But it wasn’t. The feelings he thought were meant for him were really for some girl in Portsmouth that had probably forgotten all about Nursey and was living her life like nothing had ever happened.

“Will, are you okay, man? Did you…did you run all the way across campus?” Nursey asks, as Dex flashes back to the present, his heart sinking with every breath.

“I’m fine, Nurse. I’ll see you at practice tomorrow,” he says shortly, turning around and walking back toward his dorm. He affords himself a single glance back, and sees Nursey still standing stock still in the doorway to the haus, the light behind him making him look almost ethereal as he stares down the street, seemingly indecisive.

It takes Dex fifteen minutes to get back home. When he gets in, he shuts his laptop, mentally reminding himself to just let the battery run out so that he wouldn’t have to reopen it and see the evidence of his failure right in front of his face. He doesn’t even bother getting undressed before crawling under the covers, pulling them up over his head to block out the harsh lights. He doesn’t cry, or try to sleep, he just lays there, mind blank save for rehashing the conversation he’d just had. Slowly, the light from his window fades, to the point where he almost falls asleep. Just as he’s starting to nod off, though, he hears a knock at his door, lazy and slow. He uncurls himself and braces for what he knows is behind that door.

Outside, thunder rumbles, and lightning flashes, illuminating a soaking wet Derek Nurse standing at his front door, seemingly unconcerned with his current state.

“Nurse? What happened to you, man?” Dex asks, as a half-chirp.

“Walked across campus in the rain. It’s no big deal,” he says, even as a drop of water falls to the ground from the brim of his beanie.

“No big deal? It’s the middle of December, what were you thinking?” Dex says, rolling his eyes and stepping aside so that Nursey can walk in. He closes the door behind him, while Dex roots through one of his dresser drawers.

“Here,” he says, tossing a pair of sweatpants and a Samwell Hoodie in Nursey’s general direction. “Put those on before you catch pneumonia and die or something.” He pretends to be suddenly very concerned with organizing his drawer when he hears the zipper of Nurseys jeans, and the sound of wet denim hitting wood floors.

“You can turn around now, bro,” Nursey says after a few minutes, and Dex turns back around. The sight of his clothes on Nursey, just the slightest bit too small, was worth at least 10 chirps, but from the look on Nurse’s face, Dex could tell that now maybe wasn’t the best time. He flopped down onto his bed on his back, moving over to make room, and then patting the space next to him. Nursey laid down next to him just as he was folding his hands over his stomach. He stared up at the ceiling, not daring to look over at the boy beside him for fear he might say something even more regrettable than he had earlier.

“So why’re we here, Derek?” Dex asks, after a few minutes of tense silence pass without either of them saying a word to each other.

“Because I’m a liar, and you’re super dense,” Nursey responds, voice as even as ever.

“What?”

“I lied, earlier,” Nursey admits, “When I said the poem was about a girl I met in Portsmouth. I spent the summer in Andover at my parents’ house, I didn’t even see the beach. There was no girl.” He sounds almost ashamed of himself when he says it, and Dex has the slightest urge to immediately hug him, which is only slightly paused by his next words.

“I was just scared, because…because when you asked if it was about you, I didn’t know if you would like the answer. The _real_ answer. So I lied. But then…the look on your face as you were walking away was just…” Nursey trails off, seemingly lost in thought for a moment.

“So what…what’s the real answer then?” Dex replies, picking his words carefully. Nursey suddenly bursts into hysterics beside him, laughing like a madman. He rolls over to look at him, then, in a momentarily lapse of judgement, rolls him off the bed, where Nursey continues to laugh, even once he hits the ground.

Dex looks over the edge of the bed and suddenly there’s hands shooting up and grabbing his shirt and pulling him down to the floor and before he knows it, he’s laughing against Nursey’s chest, both of them laying on the ground beside Dex’s bed.

He looks up, and puts a hand on the side of Nursey’s jaw, bringing his face close.

And then he kisses him, and Nursey doesn’t resist, doesn’t slap him away, he just puts a hand across Dex’s back, pulling him closer to him. When they finally pull apart, Dex looks down into Nursey’s eyes, and says probably the dumbest thing he’s ever said in his life.

“So that’s a yes about the poem thing, then?”

Nursey laughs again, lighter this time, before pulling him close and talking directly against his neck.

“Yes, you idiot, it’s about you. Who else has freckles in the shapes of constellations?”

“I didn’t even know that I did until you brought it up!” Dex admits, and Nursey chuckles into his shoulder again. “…do you want to see them up close?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Nursey says, voice completely even despite his face turning a brilliant shade of flushed red. He shifts, so that Dex is in front of him and then picks him up, putting him down on the bed a few seconds later, and in that moment Dex has never been more glad for arm day at the gym.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time writing this dynamic, so let me know if I did a good job, okay? or, conversely, let me know just how bad I messed it up! (btw, the title is a modified panic! at the disco lyric tbh)


End file.
